


we are ripe to fall

by rectifyinflux



Series: Two Pieces [5]
Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-05
Updated: 2014-07-25
Packaged: 2018-02-07 14:38:57
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 5
Words: 5,900
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1902780
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rectifyinflux/pseuds/rectifyinflux
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>We all fall down.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. when your world crashes down

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> we all fall down

Their orders were simple. Find the briefcase. Find Agent Barton. And maybe they’ll find Loki.

They’ve been grounded to the Triskelion until further notice. Skye was needed – something about satellites (he knows what it means, they need her to go off book and use all means necessary). Ward’s on standby, ready to leave at a moment’s notice.

Then, Loki was spotted in Germany. Captain America had shown up. And Iron Man. Only they were called the Avengers. The Avengers Initiative.

And technically, they weren’t supposed to know about it. It was need to know, above their clearance level. But Skye had found out. By hacking Coulson’s itinerary. Again. Ward basically has no pull whatsoever when she wants to do something.

(He’s secretly interested but he’d rather die than admit that.)

(He doesn’t know Skye knows.)

“Do you think AC’s asked Cap to sign the cards?” Skye asks.

“Knowing Coulson, probably.” Ward replies.

They’re in a temporary office – by Skye’s definition. It’s actually a closet with damaged furniture, a few filing cabinets, shelves and absolutely no windows whatsoever. Skye always did like those little dark cramped spaces.

And now here he is, sitting with his knees pushed against his chest because his legs were too damn long. Reading by the light of a table lamp that miraculously still worked.

He regulates his breathing, letting the sound of Skye’s fingers hitting the keys calm him. Ward looks up when he feels her foot nudge him.

“You don’t have to be here.” She says, staring at him over her laptop.

“I’m good.”

Skye shifts across the floor, resting against the cabinet opposite him. Her elbow rests on his bent leg. The hand not holding his book was aimlessly tracing patterns on her calf.

“Anything?”

“A lot. Just none that’s relevant.”

She pinches his leg to get his attention. “We’ll find Clint. Nat’s looking for him too.” Skye snorts as his ears turned pink. _So predictable_.

“Shut up.” He jabs her ribs with his foot.

* * *

 

Skye had managed to hack into the Helicarrier’s system. Needed to know how Coulson was doing. They both did. They had seen him through various cameras up until communications fell through.

They’re in the middle of suiting up, on standby, when the order comes. They report to the hangar where a quinjet whisks them to a SHIELD facility in Bethesda. Their tech had been seized the moment they stepped foot on the ramp.

Skye fidgets uncontrollably, prompting him to hand over the miniature Rubix cube he kept on hand for exactly this.

Ward felt uneasy about being kept in the dark, they weren’t told anything. He hated going in blind. That was how people got killed.

Melinda May is there when they land. The senior agent looked more grave than usual, her lips pressed into a thin line. “Agent Hand is expecting you.”

“Hand?” Ward asks, turning to face Skye.

“Whatever it was, this time it wasn’t me. I swear.”

“May, what’s going on?”

“She’ll explain everything.”

Skye moves closer to his side, taking his hand. He can sense her fear. Ward offers her a small smile hoping to reassure. He’s unsettled. Something was wrong. He could feel it.

May leads them through the throng of hallways. Ward can’t help the chill that runs down his spine. It was too cold down here. Too sterile.

“Agent Ward, Agent Skye.” Hand says. “If you’ll step inside.”

“May.” Skye says, latching onto the agent’s arm with her free hand.

Hand nods. This room looks like a standard hospital room. Clean and smelling of antiseptic. The only light source was a lamp suspended over a table behind a screen. May closes the door behind her, standing to Skye’s left.

“What’s going on, ma’am?” Ward asks, shoulder partially blocking Skye.

“I assume you’ve been keeping up with the current events that have taken place.”

 “Until the Helicarrier comms got cut.”

Ward’s brow furrows when Hand doesn’t even react to Skye’s admission. Her face held none of the usual features – her “grumpy face” as Skye calls it.

“The Helicarrier fell under attack and a prisoner escaped.” Hand says. “The Director of SHIELD has asked me to express his deep regret that Agent Phillip J. Coulson was killed in the line of duty.”


	2. lost till you're found

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Skye blames the world.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> um...enjoy? : )

“I’m sorry for your loss.”

They had just spoken to Coulson – just now, no, yesterday, last night! He was fine. He was laughing. He was coming home. They were going home.

She turned to May. The senior agent faced the ground.

_“What do I call you? Phil?” Skye tries out._

_“I’d prefer if you didn’t call me that.”_

_“How about AC? For Agent Coulson? It’s way cooler.”_

_“Hey Dad!”_

_There's a small confused smile._

_“I guess that’s on the table too then.” Skye grins._

Her eyes fell onto the table in the middle of the room. The kind she sees on CSI. For dead bodies. Skye moves forward pushing past Hand, barely registering the screen falling. Her hands ripped at the white sheet.

_Skye raps her knuckles against the door, entering Coulson’s office. He’s slumping over the desk, head held up by his hand as he goes through the pile of papers._

_Aw hell. “Ward says you wanted to talk to me.”_

_“Sit.”_

_It was like being in Sister Lillian's office all over again. He looks up, his face worn and tired. Only it was a million times worse._

_“I’m sorry!” Skye blurts. “I shouldn’t have gone through your things. I didn’t look at any of your work stuff. I swear!”_

_“What were you looking for, Skye?”_

_Anger she could handle. Disappointment too. Skye's let down so many people in her life - she stopped counting. And caring._

_“And this time, I want the whole truth. No more lies.”_

_But disappointing Coulson was like leaving a puppy out in the rain._

_Skye looks down to the fingers fidgeting in her lap. “I was looking for my parents.”_

_“There’s nothing on me. Just a piece of paper with the name they gave. Mary Sue Poots.” She says bitterly. “It’s why I learned to crack codes – to hack. I wanted to know.”_

_“Did you find anything?”_

_She shook her head. “There’s nothing. No records. No trace of them.”_

_“Why now?”_

_“I found a document. It’s the only thing I could find. But it was redacted –”_

_“By SHIELD.” Coulson says. “Skye, people hide things for a reason. Because you might not like what you find.”_

_“It can’t be worse than what I’ve already imagined.”_

_“If you’re sure you want to find out about your parents –”_

_“I’m sure.”_

_“Then let me help.”_

_“You will?”_

_“Yes. But no more hacking to look for them. I’ll do what I can. You have to trust me on this, okay?”_

“No. Oh God. No.”

It was Coulson.

Smiling as if he was asleep, in the middle of a good dream. Napping in his suit. _He was asleep_. And when he’d wake up, they’d watch Saturday morning cartoons together, in their pyjamas, with cereal, Ward can scoff all he wants. _He wasn’t dead_.

This is just another op. Coulson got injured in them all the time, he was always fine. He was going to come home. To them. Like always.

“Where are the doctors? Why aren’t they treating him?”

Agent Hand looks at her from across the table, “There was nothing they could do. He was already gone by the time the medical team got there.” Skye shakes her off. “There is nothing to do.”

_Skye lowers the window. “Mind if I join you?”_

_Coulson steps into the SUV, reclining the seat. “It’s kinda nice in here. I can see why you like it.”_

_“It’s like my closet. Only way roomier. Doesn’t smell like rosewater. And my butt doesn’t get numb after sitting for 3 hours.”_

_“Any reason why you’re hiding?”_

_“Just needed some time from Ward. He’s been speaking Russian all morning. Only Russian. He knows I can’t understand any of it.”_

_“Am I interrupting?”_

_“Nope. I’ve always got time for AC.” Skye says. “But if you pull a Ward, I’m kicking you out."_

_"Fair enough."_

The red blossoms over the blue. A bizarre pattern. Like tie dye. Coulson wouldn’t wear those. He doesn’t own those. He would hate this.

_“Do you know how hard it is getting blood off clothes?”_

_Skye looks up from her homework. Coulson’s scrubbing furiously at the sink. “Maybe you should consider not wearing your suits into the field. It’s kinda dangerous. You’re practically wearing a noose. Don’t they have tactical clothes – like what May wears?”_

_“You want me to wear a catsuit?”_

_“Images.” Skye grimaces. “No. Maybe a dude version of it.”_

_“Suits are easy. Sophisticated.”_

_“Potentially deadly.”_

_“Simple.” He holds up the white shirt. “I think it’s a lost cause.”_

_“You can’t even see the blood – much.”_

_“It was blue.”_

There’s a hole in his shirt. In his chest. Open. Gaping.

Where his heart was.

It was still. Why was it still? Pump blood. The heart was supposed to pump blood. Why wasn’t it doing its job?

Why wasn’t anyone doing their job?

He was with Fury, Romanoff and Captain America. With the Avengers. He was with superheroes – people with _actual_ powers. Coulson was safer than anyone else.

What the fuck was all the training for if this happened? Where the fuck were all those superheroes when her Dad faced him? Where was his stupid idol? Why the fuck was he so stupid to face a god? By himself?

Stupid, stupid man. He was so stupid!

He was goddamn _human_. No super soldier serum. No iron suit. No god. No turning into green raging things. No mad ninja skills. No powers. They should have protected him.

Shouldn't have let him face Loki alone! Why did they let him? Why did Fury let him?

He was just a man. Why didn’t they protect him? Why didn't they stop him?

Skye reached for his hand, fingers pressing against his wrist, searching desperately for the pulse. There had to be a pulse. _The medics probably missed it_.

_“Coulson, Skye.”_

_Skye releases a shaky breath, stepping onto the stage. Her eyes scanned the crowd. Of course they weren’t here. She knew they had work._

_It was just high school anyways. She didn’t care. No big deal. She didn’t even want to be here. 4 years for a piece of paper. Whatever._

_She could burn it if she wanted. It was nothing. Yup. She’s burning it later. Then they’d have something to really celebrate._

_A shrill whistle pierced through the applause. Skye’s head shot up. Ward was leaning against the wall of the auditorium, grinning._

_Coulson was next to him. He was smiling – a huge happy smile. And even though they on separate ends of the room, Skye could see it. His eyes were a bit glassy._

_A warm feeling blossomed in her chest. She’d done it. She had graduated._

_She had practically sprinted to them, shoving her way through tons of highly emotional people, straight into Coulson’s open arms. “I knew you could do it.” He says, pressing a kiss to her hair._

_“I’m so proud of you, Skye.” His voice is muffled – it was probably her hair. She had a lot of that. But Ward swears he was crying._

“Coulson, come back.” She clutched at his hands. “Come back! Dad, come back. DAD!”

“Skye,” May says softly, placing an arm around her trembling shoulders. “He’s gone.”

“No. How can you say that?! He’s not. No. May!” Her arms wrapped around his torso in a hug, just like those other times.

Before he’d leave for an op that took him away for too long (a week sometimes longer). When he’d come home, bruised but breathing. With stories (always filtered, always vague,). And little gifts. Trinkets from wherever it was he’d been.

“You have to let go.” May’s hands are on hers, trying to ease her grip. Skye tries to fight her, elbows pushing back, legs kicking wildly. She hits something. May’s ribs. “Skye. You have to let go.” She hauls the girl into her arms, in a vice grip, rubbing her back.

"I need you to breathe. In and out. Please, Skye.”

“He can’t go. I can’t - he’ll come back. Dad always does.” Skye falls, taking May down with her. “He can’t leave me.”

_“You’re going to send me back now?”_

_“Hey, look at me.” Coulson kneels, taking her hands in his. “Why would you think that?”_

_“It’s been 3 months.”_

_“Is that supposed to mean something?”_

_“Time’s up. They always send me back. Never a good fit.”_

_“Maybe you were just in the wrong box.”_

_Skye looks up, confused._

_“I’d like to think you’re in the right one now.” Coulson wears that smile – it’s warm, comforting, speaking of promises and hope that good things will come._

_Skye lets herself believe she's finally home._

Fuck Loki. Fuck SHIELD. Fuck everything.

She just wanted her Dad back.


	3. swim till you drown

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ward blames himself.

"I'm sorry for your loss."

It was like he wasn't there. But he was. He sees Hand's expression. May's unshed tears – he's never seen May like this; vulnerable, it's unsettling. He hears Skye's anguished cry.

Death. He smells it. How had he missed it?

Skye bumps into him as she moves closer to the centre, to where Hand is standing, tearing the sheet away.

"No. Oh God. No."

It's Coulson.

He wants to throw up – feels the bile rise, he chokes it down.

He needs to leave. Get out. It's the place. They're in a fucking morgue. It's the body, Coulson's there. On the table.

He needs to get out. Can't see Coulson. He can't be here. Can't listen to Skye. Can't stand the room.

Ward leaves. His vision's hazy. They're not tears. He has nothing to cry about. Coulson wasn't dead.

It's a nightmare he'll wake up from. He just needs to wake up.

He stumbles against the walls, his own feet; shoving away hands that reach out. Doesn't want their concern, their pity.

They don't know anything.

His feet take him to a stairwell. Nothing like that room. Where Coulson – "FUCK!" His fist collides with the wall. Once. Twice. Three times and keeps going. It feels good.

He imagines it's Loki who's on the receiving end. Imagines the son of a bitch crumpled and hurting - God, he wanted him to really hurt.

_"Why did you do it?"_

_"I'm not weak." Ward answers._

_"Does punching Wilson make you stronger?"_

_"Yeah. Didn't you see him?" It was bad – brutal, almost._

_Too damaged to be saved. Too broken to be mended._

_"Strength's a funny thing."_

_He doesn't see why. Then again, he never gets Coulson's jokes._

_"Everyone thinks strength is about being bigger. To be able to hit the hardest. Beating the crap out of someone is easy. Being the bigger person is harder."_

_Coulson's expression was neutral. But it made him feel - bad. Guilty._

_Ward's never cared about what people thought. Why would he? They always left anyway. When they realized he was just that messed up._

_"Do you know what the cool thing about Captain America is?"_

_This had the potential to become an hour long rant on how awesome Coulson's idol was. And it's happened before. He'd really rather an entire weekend of chores._

_"His shield? The outfit? Superpowers?"_

_"And that means?"_

_"He's a superhero."_

_"Really?" Coulson's got that irritating I-know-something-you-don't smile._

_Ward honestly doesn't know what to say._

_"So if I were to have super strength and then go around threatening people with it when things don't go my way -"_

_"You'd be pretty close to the villain end of the spectrum - damnit."_

_Ward really should've seen this coming._

_Coulson grins. "So I guess heroes aren't heroes because of the powers they have," He's about to respond when Coulson continues, "but rather what they do with it. Just some food for thought."_

_He was like a walking motivational book, complete with scarily well-put together sentences - did the man spend his free time coming up with them in the hopes a situation like this arises?_

_Maybe._

Coulson couldn't be dead. He doesn't deserve to die! Not this way. Not so soon. Not on a Helicarrier. Not alone.

He deserves a life where he's old. Sharing his stories. Cracking his jokes. He deserves to die when he's ripe and grey. Surrounded by family. Where he can see all he's done. All he's leaving behind.

Coulson deserved that. He was good. The world needed people like that. People like that shouldn't die by the hands of maniacs like Loki.

There were people like him and then people like Coulson. People like him were there so people like Coulson didn't have to die like this!

He was supposed to die in battle. Sacrificing his life for those like Coulson. A fair trade.

_It was his job. To make the hard call. To kill the bad people. Before they got to the nice people._

_Protect. That's what he does. His job. To be that line._

_"Nice night." Coulson says, arms crossed as he looks up._

_"I'm fine, sir."_

_Coulson names a few constellations, telling the stories behind them. He's heard it all before. It doesn't make him feel better._

_He feels the blood. On his skin. Under his nails. Ward looks down. They're clean, no blood. Just hands, his hands._

_But he can't forget. Can't undo what he's done even if it was for the better. Can't unsee what he'd left in the aftermath. Can't anything really._

_He doesn't know how long they've been outside. Or how Coulson's still talking._

_"The manuals - training don't say anything – about – when – it's -," His hands are still shaking. He clenches them into fists._

_"It's not easy. Sometimes you have to make the hard call. "_

_"But how do you – does it – how do you deal with it? Does it get easier? How do you – get used to it?_

_"You shouldn't." Coulson says. "Taking a life – any life - should never feel right or easy. Ridiculous as it may sound, a piece of your soul dies. It's like losing a part of yourself. But dwelling on it doesn't help either – kinda makes it worse really."_

What was the last thing he said? When did they last talk? Sometimes he hates that he can't voice them, how he feels. It's always there – at the tip of his tongue but the words never come out.

It was foolish but he figured there was time. Enough for him to be able to say those words – everything he needed to say. Why couldn't he just say it? He knows words weren't his forte – he says the wrong things, always.

"You're a man of action, Ward." He remembers Skye saying.

He hopes she's right. Hopes that he's done all he can to show Coulson all the things he hasn't been able to say – what he'll never get to say.

He hopes Coulson knows how thankful he is. For showing up at the prison. For the chance. For pushing just enough that he knows someone cares.

_"WARD!"_

_Even for Skye this was unusual. He nearly fell down the stairs in his haste. "What?" Her eyes are wide, holding a plain white envelope._

_The SHIELD embelm is on it. Shit. His results. He tears away the seal. The words don't make sense, all jumbled up._

_"Skye, read it." He holds it out with shaky fingers._

_What if they rejected him? They wouldn't trust him - couldn't trust him. He could end up burning their offices. What if he went rogue?_

_"You're in!" He's processing her words when she tackles him. "I told you. I bet you feel really stupid that you panicked all week."_

_"I don't panic." His response is automatic._

_Shit. He's in. SHIELD accepted him. Coulson - what if he pulled strings? Probably put in a word with Fury._

_"Dad! Ward got in."_

_"I think the whole neighbourhood knows."_

_"We need to celebrate!" Skye decides._

_He can hear her rummaging through the cupboards. He has to read it himself - it's true. In black and white. It's on paper. Maybe it's a prank – but Skye wasn't that cruel (she knew what this meant to him)._

_"But what about - do they know - and they still?"_

_"We all make mistakes, Grant. It's what we do after that matters."_

_"Thank you, sir. For everything."_

_Coulson frowns. "I didn't do anything. You did."_

_Ward doesn't protest when Coulson hugs him. "Good job, son."_

_Any bastard can be a father but it takes more to be a Dad._ He can't remember where he got that but it made sense.

He hopes Coulson knows that he's the only father he's ever known. That he was the only person in his life worthy of the title Dad.

He hopes Coulson knows he does love him. That he is family – him and Skye. All the family he had left – all the family he needed.

They don't sound human – the sound, the noises. He knows it's him. He closes his mouth but he can't stop, he can't stifle them.

He can't breathe. Why can't he breathe?

His eyes sting, he blinks furiously. It's no use. The tears are hot as they streak down his cheeks and they don't stop. Why can't he stop?

Ward can't remember the last time he cried. Crying was a weakness. People saw weaknesses and exploited them. Used them to hurt him. To hurt everything that mattered to him. He'd learned that – the hard way.

And yet here he was crying in a stairwell.

_"Why should I trust you?"_

_"That's for you to decide. I've said all I can. The rest is up to you."_

_"What if I don't go with you? To that place?"_

_"Then you've made your choice. The only thing I ask is that you think about it. I'll be back tomorrow."_

_"Why?" Ward calls out. Coulson stops in his tracks._

_"Because I think you're worth saving."_

_His laugh is harsh. "You can't save me."_

_"Everyone can be saved if you get to them early enough. Sleep on it, Grant."_

Fuck training. He can't compartmentalize – not now.

He just wants his Dad back.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry?


	4. that's where you'll find me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Crying is not a weakness.

“Ward.” Skye croaks, head lifting, craning her neck. "Where's Ward?"

She’s suddenly pushing away, scrambling to her feet, May stabilizes her. She wipes at her cheeks, blinking to clear her vision. Her eyes are wild, searching the room but steadily avoiding Coulson. The specialist was nowhere to be seen. How hadn’t she noticed? _Why hadn’t she noticed?_

“Where is he?”

“I don’t know.”

“We have to find him. Ward – he can’t be alone right now. He might –” She’s afraid to finish the sentence. Would he seek revenge? Go after the bastard that had taken Coulson away? “May, we have to find him.”

_Before he does anything stupid. Before he gets himself killed._

_Before she loses him too._

“He’s still here, Skye. There’s nowhere to go.”

“He can fly a damn plane! Oh God. What if he really goes for Loki? How long were we – he could already be there!”

“I’m not leaving you.”

“I’m fine!” Skye snatches her wrist from May, glaring. “I need to find him.”

May sighs. “We will. I’ll check the hangar. Just don’t leave the base, come get me and we’ll go together. Skye. Promise me.”

“Fine. I promise. Just find him.”

This hallway had too many doors. She has to think. Ward wouldn’t have access, so nothing with keypads. _Think like Ward_. If he was here, where would he be?

No offices. Not the waiting room. Not the toilets.

He’d isolate himself.

Nowhere people would go. Nowhere people would be to see.

He’d hide.

 

 

 

“Ward?”

“Leave me alone!” He yells. It’s muffled, watery.

She pushes the door, throwing light on his crumpled figure. Her heart breaks. His entire body was folded, taking as little space as possible. He was choking, each sob stealing more and more of his air. She moves to him, kneeling between his knees, “Ward,” prying at his arms.

He shoves her away. “Get the fuck out, Skye!”

“No.” She tries again, latching on this time. “Grant.”

“Go away. Just go away. Please.”

“I can’t do that.” He wipes his face on his arms, she feels moisture. Cupping his face, she tilts it up towards her. His cheeks are wet, eyes brimming with even more tears threatening to spill. He turns away, stubborn as an ox like he always was. “I get it, okay? But you’re allowed to cry.”

“It’s a weakness.”

She feels the anger rising again, tightening her hold on him. “Fuck that asshole brother of yours. He’s an idiot. A heartless bastard. We’ve just lo – Dad -” She grits her teeth, exhaling through her nose. “Look, you’re allowed to cry.”

“I’m weak.”

“Crying doesn’t make you weak. It means you’re human.” Skye hugs him to her, fingers carding through his hair. “If you weren’t crying, then I’d be pretty pissed off.”

“I wouldn’t think any less of you for crying. And I don’t. Sometimes we just have to cry – even Special Agent Grant Ward.”

There’s a hiccup. His arms wrap around her chest, clinging with everything in him, face pressed to her neck – she feels the tears, his breath in short pants. “Don’t shut me out, Grant.”

“I can’t lose you too.”

 


	5. strong till you break

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Even Melinda May breaks.

She felt useless. Helpless. Stuck here in her cubicle, unable to do anything.

Her office wasn’t a base. But there were soldiers here, now, suited up and ready should the call come. They were on the verge of a war – fighting for their world.

The office was chaotic. No one was working. What did it matter? The world could end. Stapling level 3 memos can wait. And if the world did end, then it really wouldn’t matter.

SHIELD communications were abuzz with everything. She wants to suit up – but she doesn’t, _she can’t_. Against men, against aliens, against pixies, against whatever - war was still war. And she’s fought enough.

She’s seen enough conflict to last at least five lifetimes. Her fingers clench the arms of her seat. _She should be out there_.

*

_Maria Hill calling…_

“Are you alright?” She’s never been one for greetings and pleasantries had no place now.

“I’m fine. We’re trying to get comms back up,”

“What’s happening?”

“War.”

She was afraid of this. Ward would be sent in now. Their final line. “How’s Phil? Has he met Rogers?”

“Mel – there’s something - something’s happened. It’s Coulson. He’s –”

_Don’t let him be dead._

“He’s gone, Mel.”

Melinda swallows, bites her lip. Inhale, exhale. “How did it happen?”

“He went after Loki.”

_Fucking idiot. Going after a fucking god._

“He’s on his way to a facility. Jet’s waiting.”

“The kids?”

“You’ll meet them there.”

“Melinda, I’m sorry.”

She doesn’t reply, just hangs up. Phil was dead. _How the fuck was he so fucking stupid?_ Maybe if she had been there. In the field. By his side, like always. Maybe she could’ve stopped him.

Or fought with him. They were partners. She should have had his back.

_“Specialist work is different from field work.” Melinda says from the doorway. They’ve just gotten their orders – their first mission as a unit._

_“I know.” Phil sets about loading his gun. “I can handle it.”_

_“I’m not saying you can’t.” She really means it, has seen what he’s capable of. But he’s got that paper-pusher/diplomat look going on and she feels this intense need to protect him. “Just that it’s different – specialist training –”_

_“Rivals Chuck Norris’ warm up. I can hold my own.” He says, strapping the vest on. “And you’ll be there anyways. There’s no one I trust more to have my six.”_

It was easier to hide, to pretend, to let things go unsaid when no one’s asking. She doesn’t want them to. Melinda hates hearing it, the polite and timid "how are you doing"; the "how are you feeling".

Those "I’m sorry for your loss". Or just "I’m sorry".

And those concerned looks.

She’s just lost her best friend, for fucks sake! How did they think she was feeling?!

_Melinda replaces the phone in the drawer – only it was suspended within jiggling pink Jell-O. There’s a bird call. Phil. She barely manages to leave everything the way it was and escape out the window._

_Phil’s waiting for her on the steps of the building._

_Wilson reacts in less than a minute, his heavy footfalls thundering down the stairs. “Run!”_

_She doesn’t argue and they’re both sprinting towards the gym. Phil leans against the side, “Time out.”_

_“Thanks for the warning.”_

_His grin is wide and toothy. “Anytime.”_

No. She won’t go there. She exhales slowly, trying to focus on her movements. Lifts her hands, brings them down. Pushes them out. Knees bent. Controlled, smooth transitions like water, flowing without hesitation.

Emotions were like a dam, once released just doesn’t stop. And she can’t afford that – not now at least. _Not ever._ Her breaking apart won’t help anyone. Phil wasn’t here anymore, their glue was gone.

She had to step in – she was stepping in.

Inhale, exhale. Let the tension slip away.

Skye was barely holding on as is. Ward wasn’t any better. The ground had vanished from under them, Melinda wasn’t going to let them fall, she was going to catch them; she’s too tired to pretend – they were her kids too.

She steps onto her right foot, adjusting the left. She can’t afford to lose it. One hand raised and one by her hip. She’s always been strong and she will continue to be strong.

She was the fucking _Cavalry_ after all.

_She did what needed to be done. It was their men inside and a little girl, an innocent. Get them out to safety. Away from danger._

_Her hands are still shaking. Her entire body is trembling. She hasn’t stopped – not since it ended. She ended it._

_It wasn’t even a combat op! It wasn’t supposed to be. It was one of those missions that were supposed to be easy as pie. It wasn’t a combat op._

_And she should’ve realized that things rarely go according to plan._

_She’d left after – once she was sure everything was okay, that the little girl was safe, that their men were unharmed. She didn’t want to stay, to see what damage she’s done, what carnage she’s leaving behind in her wake._

_What did it matter? She’ll be seeing it. The blood – so much blood. In her waking hours. The dead, glassy eyes. In her nightmares. The screams. Begs. Pleads._

_“May?!”_

_Her hands hastily wipe at her eyes. No one was supposed to find her here! Fucking Coulson._

_He’s shoving at the door. It opens with a bang, ricocheting off the wall stirring up a cloud of dust. The harsh white light falls onto her, “Oh God. Mel,” he gasps, rushing to her side._

_“I’ve been looking everywhere! Why the fuck would you take off like that? Do you know how worried I was? No one knew where you were and now you’re here in this – whatever this is – it’s fucking freezing!” He’s draping his suit jacket over her, wrapping her in his arms._

_Her fingers latch onto him and instead of pushing away, anchoring herself to him. “Hey,” his voice is softer, “it’s okay. It’s over. You did good.”_

_“I don’t even know how many.”_

_“You did what you had to do.”_

_“I killed, Coulson.” She spat._

_It wasn’t supposed to happen but you saved them, May. That little girl is still alive because of you. She gets to go home, sleep in her own bed and her parents – they’re so grateful. She’s alive, Mel, and it’s all because of you.”_

_It’s supposed to make her feel better. An innocent, a child. But it doesn’t._

_Her ledger is flooded with red; spilling over._

_“You didn’t hear them! You didn’t hear what they said.”_

_“No, I didn’t.” Coulson tightens his hold on her. His next words are so soft she has to strain to hear them, “But trying to hold onto this life with all this hanging over you, trying to live by that illusion, of that person you thought you could be – you’ll be reliving your own hell, every minute of every day.”_

_“I’m supposed to just forget it ever happened?”_

_“You can’t undo what’s been done, Mel. Can’t run from it. That’ll be with you forever. But you can let it go. Don’t let it consume you.”_

_“Just let go.”_

She does. Her entire body does. Her legs give away and she’s a crumpled heap on the floor. The tears she’s been holding back, been fighting all day flow freely.

Melinda hates crying. She knows she’s a hideous crier, with loud sobs and all that snot.

Fucking Coulson. And his stupid fucking need to always do the right thing. She should’ve stopped him. Told him he was being stupid, that there were people trained for the job.

That he wasn’t one of them.

That she was trained for this.

All those ops – all those years – and when it mattered, she was stuck in an office. Chained to a fucking desk. Stapling fucking papers.

“May? I heard – Jesus. Shit. May!”

What good was being the _Cavalry_ when she couldn’t save the one that mattered most?

She feels hands pulling her up, pushing away at the hairs sticking to her face. She blinks twice, through the tears seeing a worried Ward. “Mom?”

“Skye!” Ward’s frantic by now. He’s holding her trembling body to his – he was wrong, he’s never seen May this vulnerable and he doesn’t know what to do. _What was he supposed to do?_ “SKYE!”

She should’ve been there. To stop him from being stupid. To make him realize what he was leaving.

“What – Mom!” Melinda feels her arms loosen from around her as Skye worms her way between them, “Mom, we’re here.”

She should’ve had his six. And maybe then he’d be here. With his family.

Celebrating the victory. Not mourning his loss.

_Melinda May doesn’t curse when she falls, she laughs because God, she’s just slipped on the marble floors of the SHIELD lobby around agents –_ senior agents _– and wow, she can see the sky through the glass ceiling._

_“Are you okay?”_

_She raises her head to face a man – no, boy – he couldn’t be that much older than her. “Yeah, I’m good.”_

_“Need a hand?” She takes it, allowing him to pull her up. No one’s looking anymore – it’s business as usual._

_She feels a bit out of place despite the fact she was dressed exactly like them. He’s in a suit too but it’s ill-fitting – not like her own, her mother had made sure of that._

_Maybe it was the faces, they all looked like they had someplace to be and no time to get there. Or that they were always constipated._

_Or the shades they all had. She was definitely going to get a pair._

_“You’re new here.”_

_“What gave it away?”_

_He grins. “Stay here too long and people forget how to have fun.”_

_“Well, stick with me and it’ll be laughs all around.”_

_“I’m holding you to that.” He sticks his hand out, “Phil Coulson.”_

_“Melinda May.”_

How had she fucked up so bad? “I’m sorry.”

“God, I’m so sorry.”

She wants to beg for her best friend to come back.

She can’t keep things together - doesn’t know how to – it’s what Phil’s always done.

Keep her whole when everything’s in too many pieces. She doesn’t know where to start. Doesn’t know where anything goes.

_God, send him back_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this chapter has been horribly difficult to write - like I can't get into May's head to come close to figuring out how she would react. This is the nth version of her chapter and fun fact, I got the kick to write this by almost face-planting whilst trying to do yoga at 3am.


End file.
